Companion
by Beth1389
Summary: "You know as well as I do, Sherlock. It's lonely being dead." A few months after Moriarty's return, Ariel has escaped her captor and enlists Watson's help. Sherlock is skeptical, but she makes a compelling case. Sherlock will have to trust her if he wants to defeat his nemesis for good. /end cheesy plot summary.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**AN: This story takes place a few months after the end of Series 3. Enjoy, R&R, I don't own Sherlock or any of the other characters except for Ariel Quinn. **

"Miss Quinn?" the cheerful receptionist called out as she scanned the waiting room of the doctor's office. A young woman stood up and hesitantly approached the counter. "You'll be in room four, and Dr. Watson will be in to see you shortly."

"Thanks very much," the girl replied in a near whisper. She walked down the hallway towards the exam rooms, glancing over her shoulder every few steps. She hoped she wasn't calling too much attention to herself, looking as suspicious as she did. But she also knew that once she was with Dr. Watson, she would be safe.

Once inside room four, she tried to busy herself with various pamphlets on flu prevention and safe sex practices. Her hands shook and she resolved to simply pace around the office. _Doctors always keep you waiting_, she thought. She ran over in her mind what she might say, how she could possibly explain to him what had been going on the past few years. What would he say? Would he believe her? Worst of all, would he go to the police for help? Not wanting to risk it, she debated sneaking out of the office before Watson even arrived but…

"Hallo!" he said with a smile as he opened the door.

_So much for waiting,_ she thought.

"Ariel Quinn, is it? Just a routine exam or is there something specific that's concerning you?"

She grinned at the sound of someone calling her by her real name. He had given her many names in their time together. May I introduce my wife, Maria. This is my ailing sister, Rebecca… never Ariel.

"Everything all right?" Dr. Watson asked politely. She nodded, trying hard not to be completely swallowed up by the moment.

_Someone is being kind to me._

_Someone is taking care of me._

_I finally escaped. I found Watson. He will take me to Sherlock and everything will be all right._

"Erm, yes. Routine exam please." She finally uttered. She hadn't thought of a good way to ask for his help. She knew enough about him… recently married, pregnant wife. It was risky, dangerous even. But she couldn't do it on her own.

"Good then. All right, Ariel, I'm just going to start by checking your heartbeat," Dr. Watson said as he tugged his stethoscope up from around his neck and plugged each ear piece into his ears. He closed his eyes, listening, then stood up and tried his best to hide a look of concern.

"Your pulse is very rapid, Ariel. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"

Ariel shrugged, rolling her eyes at her own stupidity. _Of course he'd check my heart first and of course it would be too fast to ignore. Oh well, I had to tell him at some point._

"I need your help," was all she could summon at first. Watson smiled a sympathetic grin and sat in a chair across from the exam table. He leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees, appearing eager to listen and help. _What a nice man. _Ariel did her best to continue, but it only spilled out in disjointed bits and pieces.

"I was kidnapped three and a half years ago. I knew I needed to find you. You and your friend, Mr. Holmes. I can't do it without you. Please." Without warning, Ariel bent forward and began to cry. For just a minute, she let out deep, heaving sobs of simultaneous terror and relief. When her cries stopped, Watson went quickly to his feet.

"Kidnapped? Well, are you hurt? I'll get my wife to ring the police. Don't worry, we'll take care of—"

"No!" Ariel yelled, shocking Watson enough that he nearly jumped backwards. She spoke again, "You mustn't. You and Mr. Holmes are the only people I can talk to… For now, at least."

Watson pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a sigh, "Please, you'll have to tell me more if I'm to take you to Sherlock."

Ariel's voice trailed off again, "He talked about you two. For the first few months that's all he would talk about. He-"

John interrupted, as delicately as he could, "I'm sorry but… who is he?"

Ariel's eyes met his and she shrugged her shoulders. "Sometimes, he said his name was Just Jim… That always made him laugh. Then after a while he kept saying that I might remember him as Richard Brook."

Watson slowly rose out of his seat, eyeing Ariel very carefully. He reached into his pocket for his mobile and sent a message:

COMING BY SOON.

DON'T LEAVE THE FLAT.

Ariel continued, her voice more shaky and unsure than ever, "But I think to you two, his name is Moriarty."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The cab ride to 221B Baker Street was mostly silent. Watson didn't know the right questions to ask and Ariel didn't know where to start. She mumbled a "thank you" when Watson paid the cab fare and the two climbed the stairs to the apartment. Soft violin music crept out from underneath the doorway. Watson knocked on the door, but let himself in before whoever was inside had a moment to respond. Ariel knew it was Sherlock Holmes playing the violin, even though his back was to the doorway. He wore a midnight blue button down and trousers the color of charcoal. If he knew that two people were standing behind him, he made no indication of it. He kept playing his music until John interrupted him.

"Did you get my text?" he asked.

"Mmm?" Sherlock replied turning around, "Oh no, I've misplaced my phone. Might have left it in the fridge. Have a look for me, won't you?" John rolled his eyes and made for the kitchen, leaving Ariel alone with Sherlock Holmes.

"Hello," she said, not knowing how else to approach the so-called genius detective. Having been captured for the height of his fame, she was unsure what was true and what Moriarty merely wanted her to believe.

Sherlock glanced at her, but said nothing. John returned to the living room, tossing a cell phone in Sherlock's direction. He put a friendly hand on Ariel's shoulder and introduced her to Sherlock.

"Right then. New case?" Sherlock asked as he shoved his phone back in his pocket. He sat in his chair and looked her up and down.

**21-24 years old**

…

**Eldest of three**

**...**

**Frightened**

…

**?**

John motioned to his usual chair and Ariel sat quickly, as if obeying a command. Once she looked comfortable, he attempted an explanation, "She….well, Ariel came into my office today. She told me that three years ago, she was abducted by Moriarty. She's been with him that whole time."

Sherlock sat up in his chair but remained silent, leading John to continue:

"She hasn't told me much, said she wanted to wait until we got here. I think she's telling the truth."

"Why?" Sherlock finally spoke, "Because three months ago we saw Moriarty's face all over London and now you think he's back to destroy me again? He's done it once and failed, even he would say that's boring. She probably just wants her name in the paper."

Ariel squirmed in her seat. Sherlock stood up and walked toward her.

"John may not be able to spot a fraud, but I am. We can't—"

"Please, I don't want to be famous, that's the last thing I want. I just want money. I need money," Ariel pleaded. John looked shocked, but waited for Sherlock's reaction.

"And telling me that you're a former prisoner of Moriarty is how you get it? Oh let me guess, you have some information about him and you'll tell me in exchange for some exorbitant reward. I've heard this before. You'll have to try someone else." On that, Sherlock picked up his violin, indicating the conversation was most definitely over.

"You don't understand! The money isn't for me. It's for my family."

Sherlock didn't turn around, but he didn't start to play either. She continued, hoping to keep his attention, "He's been paying their debt. As long as I do what he says, he'll keep sending money. I can't do this anymore, but… my family. They still need help."

Sherlock faced her once more, staring into her eyes. "And what's to stop him from just killing them? Surely he's noticed you're gone by now. And, if I know Jim Moriarty as well as I think I do, that's how he's managed to keep you quiet all this time."

Ariel felt a hot tear roll down her cheek, but she was unmoved. "This isn't the first time I've tried to leave; I know how he does things. He'll stop paying once he realizes I'm gone, but he won't kill them until he knows if I've told anyone anything. He reminded me many times that I was worth more to my parents if I kept my mouth shut. That's why I told John I couldn't go to the police." She sighed, as if to say _If this won't convince them, nothing will._

John stepped forward, saying that he needed to get back to the office and Sherlock please don't do anything stupid until I come back. He patted Ariel on the shoulder, trying to make her as at ease as possible before leaving the flat.

Sherlock sat in his chair, staring silently at the young woman across from him. He knew she was afraid. Genuine fear is difficult to fake. But someone desperate for money might just be afraid of the possibility of being denied. He tried to focus on her outward appearance. Olive skin, admittedly striking green eyes, and a distinctive freckle in the center of her nose. Not as plain as Molly but certainly not as memorable as Irene. Decidedly average, but something compelling nevertheless. He shook it off, chalking it up to the adrenaline he felt from the possibility of Moriarty coming back into his life.

"So, you're telling us what you know about him in exchange for money."

"No," Ariel replied as steadily as her fear would allow, "I'm telling you because I believe that you are the only people who can get rid of him for good. And with the way he's so fixated on the two of you, I think he believes that too."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Sherlock clasped his hands together and pressed his index fingers lightly against his bottom lip. Ariel knew that several questions would have to be answered before he decided to help her.

"Why you?" the first thing Sherlock said was somewhat unexpected.

"I'm sorry?"

"Why did he take you? There must have been some reason; he wouldn't just choose someone at random. Did you know him before you were abducted?" Sherlock reiterated with a power to his voice that only added to Ariel's anxiety.

"I don't see why—"

"Whether or not you see why my questions are important is irrelevant. I see why," he interrupted.

Ariel felt her confidence inexplicably growing. Instead of panic, frustration was taking over as her primary emotion.

"I made myself clear, Mr. Holmes. I won't tell you what I know until I know my family is taken care of. I understand not trusting me and not wanting to help me but don't bore me with an interrogation. I know enough about you; you made up your mind about me within the first two minutes I was here. So please, if you want to help my family, let's get on with it. If not, I have to be getting back."

For the first time, it was Sherlock who looked confused.

"Back? You'd go back to Moriarty?"

Ariel sighed before asking, "What else would I do? I've nowhere else to go and nobody else would be able to help as much as you and Dr. Watson can."

Ignoring her completely, Sherlock reached for his phone and hurriedly typed out a text message, then set it on the table and shut his eyes. Ariel clicked her tongue in resignation and made for the front door of the flat.

"You'll want to wait until I hear back from my brother," he called out. "If anyone can protect your family, it'll be him."

Ariel smiled widely, but didn't let Sherlock see. She faced the door until she heard Sherlock's phone ring. He answered, told the person on the other end to come over tomorrow morning, and hung up. For the first time in years, she felt somewhat relaxed.

"Thanks," Ariel said as she turned around to face him again.

"All I've done is make a phone call. It's my brother you'll need to be thanking when this is over. And I'm sure he'll be much harder to convince than I was," Sherlock responded as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

Ariel found herself grinning as she stepped towards his chair, and then paused. She had to ask, "What made you decide to help me?"

"You said it yourself; if anyone can beat Moriarty it's me. And, now that I've enlisted my brother to help your family, I need you to tell me more about what you know."

Ariel shook her head, "Not until I know they're safe. I promise." She then sat down

Sherlock exhaled sharply, feeling a strange sense of admiration for the girl. He always had appreciated people who followed through with their plans, no matter how foolish they appeared to the outside world. He shrugged and continued to pry; this time he asked about what happened to her during her time with Moriarty.

"Yoo-hoo!" There came a knock at the door. Ariel was visibly relieved by the interruption as a petite elderly woman practically skipped into the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of a strange young woman sitting across from Sherlock.

"Oh!" she gasped, "I didn't expect you to have company, Sherlock."

"Mrs. Hudson, this is Ariel…?" his voice trailed off, seeing as he had no idea what her last name was.

"Quinn," Ariel finished as she rose to shake Mrs. Hudson's hand, "Pleased to meet you."

"And you, dear. It's so nice to see that Sherlock finally has a lovely girlfriend. I suppose after John settled down, he finally got the itch."

"Uhm, I don't think…" Ariel stammered, but Sherlock quickly jumped in to say that she was an old friend from school.

"Oh! Well my mistake. Shall I bring some linens to make up John's old bed?" Mrs. Hudson asked. Ariel flushed, hoping Sherlock would offer her a place to stay. Without missing a beat, he replied,

"Yes, thank you Mrs. Hudson. Ariel will be in town for a few days."

"Right, be back in a minute you two," she chirped, and she left as quickly as she came.

"Sorry about her," Sherlock murmured, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Ariel chuckled lightly and told him not to worry. She then clutched her stomach and glanced toward the kitchen.

"There's nothing in but tea, maybe some biscuits. I can't promise they're not stale."

Ariel shook her head lightheartedly and made for the kitchen. Sherlock watched as she stood on her tip-toes (getting a better look at her, he figured that she could only be an inch or two over five feet tall) to peer into cabinets, looking for cups and saucers. She placed the kettle on the boiler and rooted around some drawers for spoons. Sherlock felt a light smile forming at just the corners of his mouth.

"Thanks for letting me stay," she called as she got a carton of milk from the fridge.

Sherlock walked towards the kitchen and knelt down to a cabinet to pull out a tray for the teacups.

"It won't be for very long, I'm sure. Don't mention it." He found himself wanting to tell her that it would be nice to have someone in the house again. He wanted to tell her about the cases he and John worked on, and that John was going to have a daughter in a few short months. He almost started, but then he reminded himself that he shouldn't trust anyone who knew Moriarty and it was better to keep a distance.

"Mmm, Earl Grey is my favorite. I can't remember the last time I had a proper cup of tea," Ariel thought aloud as she tugged her hair into a ponytail. She bent over the teapot and let the steam wash over her face, inhaling deeply.

*tap tap tap*

Another knock at the door.

"That'll be Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said as he walked out of the kitchen. He went to fetch the bedding, and then called back to Ariel: "Biscuits should be in the cupboard above the sink,"

Ariel finished making up the tea tray while she assumed Sherlock was making up a room for her. She balanced it carefully in her two hands and set it down on the table in the living room, between the two chairs. He had been gone for a few minutes, but she decided to wait and sip on her tea. Unexpectedly, her eyelids felt heavy. She hugged her knees closer to her chest and blinked several times in the vain hope it would keep her awake.

When Sherlock returned, Ariel had curled up in the chair and fallen asleep. He covered her with a blanket and took his tea to his bedroom. It was hours before he was able to get any rest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

When Ariel awoke, it was still dark. Her body stiff from sleeping in a chair, she stretched slowly and groaned as she wandered around the living room in search of a clock.

5:35 AM

"Damn it," she whispered, wanting to crawl into her bed but knowing she'd never be able to go back to sleep. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered slightly. Remembering where the tea was in the kitchen, she carefully filled the kettle with water and set it to boil. She saw Sherlock's black jacket hanging on a chair and, without thinking, put it on to keep warm. Ariel giggled quietly to herself as she dangled the far too long sleeves out in front of her. She felt like a small child again, playing dress up before school and her parents would be downstairs soon to fix her breakfast. For just a moment, the past three years felt like a nightmare. Moriarty wasn't coming after her. She wasn't hiding out in a stranger's house. None of it was real.

"Up early, I see," Sherlock said from the living room. Ariel turned to face him and stifled a smile. The detective looked so strikingly normal in a plain white t-shirt, burgundy pajamas, and a blue robe. With bare feet and messy hair, you'd never take him for a genius. _Amazing what a shower and a scarf will do,_ she thought to herself.

"Couldn't get back to sleep," she responded with an apologetic shrug, "I hope I didn't wake you." She rose from her chair, getting a second tea cup from the cupboard for Sherlock.

"Why are you wearing my coat?" he questioned with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Oh! I was cold, sorry," she said, promptly tearing the coat off her small body and handing it to Sherlock. He eyed her curiously and went to the living room. He grabbed the blanket from the chair she slept in and placed it around her shoulders as he walked back into the kitchen to pour himself some tea. Wanting to break the awkward silence, she asked if he slept well.

"Fine, and you?" he lied. He'd spent a good part of the night debating with himself about how to approach this strange girl. He'd earlier recognized a strange instinct to actually talk with her, as opposed to making deductions and predictions about who she was. As difficult as he found it, he knew to suppress the instinct until her story was authenticated, a job he left for Mycroft.

"Surprisingly well," Ariel replied with a smile. She then heard a light buzzing sound. Sherlock reached into the pocket of his robe and picked up his phone to read a message.

"John's dropping by on his way to work… Says he has news," Sherlock looked up to Ariel, trying to sense her reaction to such a vague statement. When he saw none, he rose abruptly from the table. "Having a shower, I won't be long."

Once she could hear running water from the bathroom, Ariel began poking around the flat. She browsed his bookshelf, crinkled her nose at the sight of what she assumed was an actual human skull on the mantle, and examined the contents of the kitchen to see if there was anything suitable to eat. (And aside from the biscuits that he knew were stale and a freezer burnt slice of wedding cake, there wasn't.)

At 6:10 am, John arrived. He was carrying a manila folder full of official-looking documents and an olive green duffel bag.

"My bag! I couldn't remember where I left it," Ariel beamed. There wasn't much inside, but pictures of her family and a clean change of clothes were all she really wanted just then.

"We left my office in such a hurry, I noticed it when I got back yesterday. Seemed important." Watson explained. Ariel gave him a sincerely thankful smile. He glanced around the room, looking puzzled, "Uh…Where's Sherlock?"

"Taking a shower, he should…" she stopped, becoming increasingly distracted by the files John brought with him. "What are those?" she asked sharply.

"Mycroft, Sherlock's brother, sent them for us to look over. He wanted to…" John hesitated, looking a touch embarrassed, "he had to do some research to make sure you were who you said you were."

Ariel was only momentarily offended, then reassured. She knew the files could do nothing but help gain Sherlock and Watson's trust. She told him she understood, and asked if he found anything else. She tried not to sound too optimistic, but was hoping to hear some news about her family. Watson smiled, knowing exactly what she wanted to hear.

"He's located your family, but he says he needs more time before he can get them, and you, to a safe place."

Ariel's face flushed with relief. _They're not safe yet, but it's only a matter of time_. After that, it didn't matter what happened to her. She knew escaping from Moriarty brought its own consequences, most likely far greater than she could imagine. But it seemed such a small price to pay, after all she put her family through before she disappeared.

"Hello, John," Sherlock's voice came suddenly booming from behind her, "Those from Mycroft?" He asked as John nodded and held up the folder, "Why'd he send them to you?"

"This is just a guess, but it could have something to do with the fact that I usually answer my phone whereas you leave yours in your fridge."

"Nobody's perfect," Ariel teased, in what felt like her first attempt at witty small talk in years.

"See? And she makes tea… thirteen hours and already a better flat-mate than you." Ariel and Watson shared a smile across the table while Sherlock remained focused, not bothering to look up from the files

Ariel glanced down towards her feet where her duffel bag was sitting. She smiled as she knelt down, grabbing a clean outfit, a toothbrush, and a comb.

"If nobody minds, I'm going to have a bath."

"Now? We might need your help once we start looking through all this," Watson objected, but Sherlock gestured his hand towards the hallway where the bathroom was.

Taking the words out of Ariel's mouth, Sherlock explained, "Anything that's in the files we'll be able to read faster than she can tell us, and anything that's not in them, she won't tell us until after her family is safe."

"Right… well off you go, lovely to see you again." John said sheepishly.

Ariel turned down the hallway and into the bathroom, clutching her clean clothes tightly to her chest. She heard the rustling of papers and Sherlock's insistent whispering behind her. Soon they would know everything, which calmed her in a sense; it suited her just fine to not have to discuss every minute detail of her life before Moriarty… or her life with him, for that matter. Of course there would be questions; he wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes if there weren't any questions.

But just for the moment, her life felt simple. And as she sank deep into the water, she found herself wishing that every day could feel as hopeful as this one.

**Hi folks, just a quick head's up: I'm going on vacation this weekend so if there's nothing new for a couple weeks, don't abandon my story :) I've got a lot planned so I'm going to try and post one more shorter chapter in the next few days but I promise there will be more! Thanks for reading!**


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